


The Chosen One, Part 4

by kizkhalifa



Series: Training For The Ballet, Potter? [15]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Gen, M/M, One Shot, the chosen one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 02:15:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16883721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kizkhalifa/pseuds/kizkhalifa
Summary: A/n: Oh hi. Just me making a story out of a group of one-shots again. NBD. *rolls eyes* [No beta~]Warnings: N/a.Draco Malfoy/Harry James Potter.





	The Chosen One, Part 4

**Author's Note:**

> A/n: Oh hi. Just me making a story out of a group of one-shots again. NBD. *rolls eyes* [No beta~]
> 
> Warnings: N/a.
> 
> Draco Malfoy/Harry James Potter.

" **Potter?" Draco asked in question** , his shock evident as he stared through his open door.

"You even look adorable when sick," Harry grinned at the man tucked into a hooded sweater and jeans, something he hadn't seen Draco wearing before. Then he held up two bags, "I brought dinner, tea, and dessert."

"Potter, I..." Draco cleared his throat to fight back a cough that was threatening its way out. "I don't want you to get sick."

"I'll manage," he smiled, "gonna let me in?"

Draco pulled his blanket closer, "I should have known you wouldn't believe me."

"I believed you," Harry laughed, "that's why I brought you a remedy."

Draco wished his heart hadn't softened at the sentiment and he stepped back letting Harry in with a sigh, "Potter I'm really not in the mood."

"I promised you a date, Malfoy, you're getting one." Harry kicked his shoes off before heading up the stairs and making himself comfortable in Draco's kitchen. He laid the bags on the counter and started unloading them by hand. "Chicken soup okay?"

"Uhm," Draco closes his front door, before pulling his blanket closer with a sigh, "if you'd like." He got up the stairs and stepped into the kitchen with Harry, opening a cabinet.

"No," Harry smiled and took Draco by the shoulders, "you can keep me company but you aren't going to help." He took him to the island and sat him in one of the high top chairs, "you need rest, Draco."

"Okay," Draco sat down and watched Harry go back to the main part of his kitchen again, this time with his wand out. He felt the magic, Harry Potter was strong and Draco watched - a little mesmerized, at the food that came flying around in front of them before a pot came from a cabinet and to the stove, the ingredients now prepared filled the pot and started cooking.

"...and drink some tea," Harry laid the mug on the countertop, "it always tastes better after some old-fashioned cooking," he smiled, "about twenty minutes or so."

Draco lifted an eyebrow and took a sip from the mug, "thank you?"

"Anytime," Harry said sincerely, leaning against the countertop. Draco believed him, without a doubt, and took a bigger drink of his tea so he couldn't say anything. Harry smiled fondly, "I am sorry you feel bad," he added.

"Not your fault," Draco said quickly, licking his lips. Though he had a sneaking suspicion it was partly Harry's fault. The man had stressed himself sick over the date and when he wrote the owl that early afternoon he knew it was blind hope that Potter wouldn't do something irrational like show up to make him soup and tea.

"Still," Harry peeked up at him with a grin, "it's a pity."

"Did you have a great night planned?"

"I might have," Harry pushed off the counter and walked back around to check the pot on the stove before he had his wand out and was making quick work to cut the loaf of bread he had bought as well. "Not telling you, it can be our next date."

"Our next?"

"When I prove to you how much better I am than that image you have in your mind," he winked with a grin.

"Oh right," Draco rolled his eyes and tucked his blanket under his arms, leaning against the counter. "You're still on that?"

"How am I doing so far?"

Draco wished he wasn't doing as good as he was, so he lifted a shoulder, "you haven't killed me yet."

"No, I haven't." Harry winked, turning to check the pot again and giving it a stir. "I really like cooking," he was saying as a soft music filled the house, Harry turned around to see Draco placing his wand on the counter and looking back at him.

"I don't."

"That doesn't surprise me," Harry chuckled, putting the lid back on, "but much doesn't surprise me about you."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, a little offended.

Harry shrugged, "just that you do exactly what I imagine you will."

"I...?"

"You're just like I picture you," the man smiled, "I like it."

Draco sniffed picking up the mug of tea and taking the last drink, "well."

"I had a feeling you wouldn't like that."

"How would you like to be told you're predictable as all fuck?" Draco snapped, annoyed, and brushed his hair back.

Harry chuckled, "I didn't mean you're predictable, just that I feel I know you." Draco was quiet, watching him and Harry dropped his hands to the counter across from him, leaning into it. "I feel like I've known you... forever."

"A little dramatic, Potter."

"Draco," Harry said quietly, "you're comfortable, I like that."

The blonde sniffed, and cleared his throat, "bowls are in the cabinet to the left of the sink." He slid down, "I'm going to the den, do you like movies?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned, "it won't be much longer." Draco didn't wait to listen to him, he was already in the den and pulling out his hideaway TV. He could hear the clank of the bowls on the counter as he settled into the divan, covering himself up and sprawling across the couch. Draco flipped something on before he shut his eyes, he had a headache from hell that was only growing and he felt like getting sick more than he felt like moving.

**It was with a small gasp that Dra** co shot up, he was curled into his comforter and across his warm silken sheets.  _This is not where I was..._ He thought hurriedly, and glanced around the dark of his bedroom, "Potter?"

The man was beside him, above the covers. Draco took the sight in, his shoes were off but he was otherwise clothed and he had a blanket sprawled across his chest and hips. Draco felt a pang in his chest that wasn't related to the headache and sore throat, he felt bad. He felt terrible. He hadn't even eaten, he had only drunk the tea Potter had given him before he laid on the couch and passed out.

He checked the clock, shocked to find it was past midnight almost one in the morning.

_Oh great,_ Draco frowned to himself and laid back with a quiet groan, shutting his eyes...

**Harry blinked back the slee** p from his eyes, rubbing them with the base of his palms as he sat up. He knew it was still early, he could tell from the dark sky that was showing through Draco's open window. He glanced over beside him, pulling his hand from Draco's grasp before he got up and made his way to the bathroom. Harry took out his wand saying a quick  _accio_ for medicine and after getting some with a glass of water he laid them on the bedside table before heading down the hallway.

He cleaned up the mess from dinner that was uneaten by both and made sure the leftovers were easily accessible in the fridge for Draco.

He hadn't intended to fall asleep, but he had almost the moment he crawled into bed beside Draco who had been whimpering about something until Harry held him, the blonde had stayed asleep through all of it and Harry was happy because he knew he would have most surely been embarrassed.

Harry put the tea bags on the counter and grabbed a piece of paper to scrawl a quick note that he tucked under the tin of tea, before heading down to the door to slip his shoes on and show himself out.

* * *

**Draco couldn't** _ **not**_   **return the favo** r, it was instilled in him at a young age after all - and maybe a part of him was attracted to Harry and he wanted that. He wanted to ensure it would happen. He wanted to be the one that tamed Harry Potter, the boy who lived to fuck everyone. Or so Draco had been told.

_Playboy Potter, as if he didn't know what a challenge he would be._

Draco scowled as he walked up the steps of The Ministry, it was the last day of Auror training he had heard through the grapevine and the last day Potter was going to be there -  _shirtless, of course_  - wrapping up the training section of the young doe-eyed Auror's to be.

Draco was just off the lift and he knew he was in the right area, where else would a bunch of fangirls (and some guys) be posted up then around the map. They were all Ministr-. " _Pansy_?!" Draco hissed, coming up beside his dark cropped hair friend, "what the hell are you doing here?"

"What are  _you_ doing here?" She asked around her sandwich, "I'm on lunch."

"An early lunch," Draco mused, dodging her question, "and one that dropped you in the training gym along with all these other females?"

"Ah, they're Potter fans." She waved a hand before taking a bite. Draco would note that she had yet to look away from the mats either. He snorted and glanced over to where she was, seeing Harry Potter shirtless just like Draco figured he would be, talking with a small group of boys and girls that looked no older than 18.

"They just get younger," Draco whispered, a little put off at the thought.

Pansy glanced up at the tone, "I know."

He cleared his throat, "or we keep getting older," he tried to sound nonchalant, but the idea of the next generation youths putting themselves in harm way was a scary thought.

"We grew up in a different time," Pansy laid her sandwich on the wrapper beside her and picked up her drink, "their world is much less dark than ours was." Draco lifted a shoulder and scooted her over, sitting next to her, "that would be a good piece for you to do, Drake."

"Maybe," he couldn't deny he liked the idea of it though. He took a quick glance at his watch when Harry's voice met his ears.

"Have somewhere else to be, Malfoy?"

Draco jumped and looked up in shock, "uh- no, I was just checking the time, I figured you all had lunch right about now."

"We do," Harry answered before bending down to give Pansy a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Pansy."

"Potter," she smiled through her blush, "your fangirls are going to attack me before I make it to the lift if you do that." She laughed shoving him away with one hand and brushing her hair back with the other.

"I bet you can handle yourself," he winked, turning his attention back to Draco.

Draco tutted, "if you two are done..."

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Draco?"

"I didn't know I'd be contending for your attention," Draco spat, "I wanted to take you to lunch as a thank you for Saturday."

"You look better," Harry commented, "let me grab my jacket."

"And a shirt," Draco called after him, ignoring the silent disdain coming from around them.

"What happened Saturday?"

"You mean to tell me you've been staring at him all week and I wasn't brought up?" Draco asked Pansy with a smirk, "he made me soup when I was sick in his ever true Potter fashion he also overstayed his welcome and slept on my comforter."

"That is adorable," Pansy gushed, wrapping her sandwich up as she stood and tossing what was left in the bin before grabbing her drink. "Look at you two not working."

"I'm merely paying him back it's the polite thing to do." Draco waved his hand, standing as well, "sorry to ruin your show."

Pansy snorted, checking her watch, "I have to head back to the office anyway." She looked over as Harry approached, looking rather comfortable in a dark blue t-shirt and his leather jacket, "Potter, enjoy your lunch with Drake."

"You're not joining us?"

"No, I have to get back to the office," she smiled and gave him a proper hug, her blush at bay, "as always it's great to see you."

"That's what they all say," Potter smarted off, keeping his arm around her shoulder as Draco led them to the lift, "are you joining the crew for drinks tonight?"

"I have a lot of work," she whined, "but if I manage to get any of the reports done I'll consider it."

"I don't really want to go," Harry said, "so let me know if you do decide to go, if not I probably won't."

_Oh yeah, they're not friends or anything..._ Draco rolled his eyes, waiting at the lift. He glanced around the parted people, most were keeping their eyes adverted from Harry but they were still looking. All over him and Pansy was right, they were giving her looks that could kill.

Pansy was either ignoring it or oblivious as she talked with Harry, who really didn't seem interested in anyone other than the two he was talking with.  _Well, he's probably used to it by now. Living up to the name of The Chosen One._

"Have fun," Pansy smiled as they stepped on the lift and she took her hold bar, "don't be too much of a prat, Draco."

"Piss off," Draco smiled over his shoulder and took his own, Harry stepped on next to him laughing.

"Where to Draco?"

"Anywhere away from here," Draco answered as they came to a stop, and Harry grabbed the lift doors, "I have no idea what is around here anymore, I haven't been by in a while."

"Just came to see me?"

"It's payback, Potter, don't get any ideas."

Harry grinned and shook his head, "how could I get any ideas when you've been nothing short of cold since I said hello."

"Just how I like you, at a distance," Draco retorted, following Harry as he walked.

"There is a diner up here," he gave a nod, "we generally go here for lunch."

"Oh great, more Harry Potter fans to deal with."

"I could apparate us somewhere if you'd rather, Draco?" Harry turned to face him at the crosswalk, "if that would make you more comfortable?"

Draco stopped short, judging Harry's words before he shook his head, "this is fine." He said softly, quietly, "come on, let's go." Harry grinned and reached out taking Draco by the hand. He pulled him against his side before they crossed the walkway and headed into the diner.


End file.
